


Worth It All

by Teddy1008



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, Anal Plug, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Crying Harry, Discipline, Dom Louis, Dom Louis Tomlinson, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Figging, Hair-pulling, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Insecure Harry, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, Nipple Play, Punishment, Riding Crops, Spanking, Sub Harry, Sub Harry Styles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 05:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17595134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy1008/pseuds/Teddy1008
Summary: He and Louis were both kinky little shits. Of course, they both knew exactly what was going to happen. Hell, they knew some things that would make their grandmothers cry if they heard about them. Harry just didn’t want to acknowledge what was about to happen. Louis only ever used this method when he was feeling particularly mean.Or, when Harry misbehaves, Louis has an absolutely stinging punishment in mind. Pun intended.





	Worth It All

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers! I'm back with a new oneshot for you to enjoy! I've been working pretty hard on this one for a while now, so I hope you enjoy it! Please leave a comment down below because they really are motivating! Ideas are also always welcome! :)

His arms were _burning_ , and that was all he could think of at the moment. It felt like years and years had passed when in reality, it really was only a few minutes. Or at least, he thought it was a few minutes. The ache in his arms wasn’t unbearable, but it was dangerously toeing the line.

Not to mention, the sharp, tangy smell was so persistent and so, _so_ strong, taking over the entire room. Harry’s mouth was salivating at the scent, making him sweat in places that he hadn’t even _known_ were possible to sweat in.

He could hear movements from behind him. The continuous scraping noise of the knife peeling away at the skin. The clattering sound that rang out in the room every time the knife was placed down. The soft hums Louis let out while he worked away at what was in his hands.

He was aching with the urge to turn around and see what his Dom was up to. Of course, by the smell and by Louis’ actions, he already _knew_ what was happening. He wasn’t dumb.

He and Louis were both kinky little shits. Of course, they both knew _exactly_ what was going to happen. Hell, they knew some things that would make their grandmothers cry if they heard about them. Harry just didn’t want to acknowledge what was about to happen. Louis only ever used this method when he was feeling particularly mean.

“Daydreaming, sweetheart?” His Dom’s voice sounded especially silky today, though hushed, which clearly proved that he was concentrating hard on making sure to peel away every bit of the skin of the root.

“No,” Harry muttered sullenly, shifting in his current position, “just getting comfortable.”

“Mm. I’m sure you are.” The scraping noises paused. “And that sentence should have ended with Sir.”

“Just getting comfortable, _Sir,_ ” Harry repeated, excessively stressing the word just to spite his Dom. Unfortunately, (or rather, _fortunately,_ for his arse) Louis didn’t respond to the obvious taunt that Harry was trying to trick him into falling for. Harry hung his head, twisting his arms a little in the restraints. Fuck.

With that, there were no more words spoken between the two, the grating noises of the scrapes resuming once more.

Louis was probably doing this on purpose, Harry reckoned, just to drag it out and make Harry’s blood boil in anticipation. His Dom was _that_ mean to him. He pouted.

Harry couldn’t help but jump a little when a loud clatter rang out, surprising him and effectively jerking him out of his thoughts. Everything was silent for a moment, and Harry wondered if Louis had left the room.

Which, no.

Bondage 101 — never leave a bound sub alone. It was one of the basics; every person in the BDSM community knew it.

So, surely, Louis had not left the room. Louis wasn’t the type of Dom to even have to leave the room as a result of being unprepared. No, his Dom was one of the most prepared, cautious Doms in the entire community.

Sure enough, a hand gently touched the small of his back, letting him know that everything was alright. He relaxed a little, licking his dry lips to wet them and lifting his head a tad bit more.

“Nervous?” The hand trailed up, following his spine, all the way up to the spot between his shoulder blades. “No? Yes? Well, you should be.” Warm air ghosted up his back as well, and Harry realized that Louis’ lips were nearly brushing his skin, just barely touching.

“Not nervous,” Harry whispered, though he was clearly nervous. “Sir.” His heartbeat was fast and loud in his ears, blood rushing in anticipation at what was soon to come.

His Dom finally circled all the way around so that they were standing chest-to-chest, the slight height difference between them barely noticeable in this situation. Harry was a bit taller, which he always teasingly gloated about to Louis, but Louis had quickly shut him up with the response of ‘ _well, it only gives me more room for me to tease you, darling_.’

Now that Louis was closer and standing right in from of him, Harry could smell the tangy scent even better now, the strong smell wafting up his nostrils. He swallowed when Louis finally held it out in front of his face. If Harry wasn’t restrained into what was called the Eiffel Tower position, with his arms restrained above his head and a spreader bar holding his legs apart with cuffs around his ankles, he would have fallen to his knees with how weak they felt. God, he didn’t even know how he’d landed himself in this position. Okay, well, he knew, but he didn’t want to admit it.

A firm snap of Louis’ fingers brought his attention back to his current predicament and he blinked. “Yes, Sir?” Perhaps Louis had spoken and was waiting for an answer.

Louis’ lips curved upwards into a small smile, just barely contained. “I didn’t say anything, but I do expect your attention to be on me. Even when this is inside you.” He held it out again. “What does it look like to you?”

Harry dropped his eyes sulkily, knowing that his real punishment was starting. “A root,” he muttered. “A ginger root, Sir.”

There was a small pause that consisted of silence and Harry wondered if he’d somehow messed up again, when Louis finally spoke, amusement seeping through the stern tone he was using. “And how is this ginger root shaped? Come, Harry, I know that you know what I’m getting at. Let’s not play dumb.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed, going warm in the face. Gosh, Louis knew exactly what to say in order to really get to him. “It’s shaped … like a plug,” he answered cautiously. “Sir.”

“That’s right!” Louis broke out into a playful grin, and ohhh, noooo. Harry knew that look. The look that was sketched onto Louis’ face. He had seen it multiple times before, and it had never ended well for him. For Louis, well, it had always been deliciously pleasant and amusing. “Now, what should you get as a reward for getting the right answer on the first try?”

Damn. There it was. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, pretending to think for a few moments before answering. “No ginger root in my ass?”

Louis let out a bark of laughter, outstretching his hand to caress Harry’s cheek, leaving a strong trace of ginger on his skin. “Nice try, baby.” He brought the plug closer to Harry’s face until it was right in front of his lips. “Kiss it.”

Flushing a deeper shade of red than he had before, Harry slowly did as he was told, squirming a little in embarrassment. Apparently one kiss was not enough, judging by the look on Louis’ face, so sensibly, Harry layered a few more kisses on the root until Louis was satisfied.

“Good lad,” Louis murmured, indicating with a hand that Harry could stop. “Now, open your mouth. You’re gonna get this nice and wet.” His eyes glinted with pure dominance, and Harry knew that he wasn’t going to get out of it unless he just sucked it up and did as he was told.

Swallowing back a groan, Harry let his mouth fall open, already salivating, nervously imagining how the root would taste. Well, he would find out soon enough.

When the root first touched his tongue, it was almost like his taste buds screamed in protest. Harry couldn’t help but grimace; Louis knew he was sensitive when it came to his sense of taste. Hell, he had tried bubble tea once and absolutely hated it, having to pass it off to Louis automatically! The strong taste of ginger burst in his mouth, almost feeling explosive, but he sucked at it, knowing better than to disobey. It felt like eons until Louis was satisfied with Harry’s work, pulling the root out of his mouth.

“Now, we’re gonna put this up your arse,” Louis told him, slowly circling back to stand behind Harry. “And hopefully that’ll teach you a proper lesson. And you know, I can’t use lube on this. Lube takes away the effect the root has, and why would I want to do that, hm?”

Harry gulped, squirming. He flinched, startling, when Louis brought his hand down on his arse cheek, squeezing firmly. “So, since we’re not using lube, I’m gonna dip this thing into some cold water.” Louis paused, seemingly waiting for something, and when Harry didn’t say anything, he commented lightly, “You know, I don’t _have_ to use cold water to help with the insertion. The oils from the root and your saliva should really be enough to get it inside you. But since I’m feeling merciful, a bit of gratitude might help you out when you’re in this position.”

Harry’s mouth went dry and he immediately began to thank his Dom. “Thank you, Sir,” he stammered. “T-Thank you.”

Louis just hummed, dipping the root in the bowl of cold water he’d had prepared. “You’re very welcome. I do like it when my sub has good manners.”

“Yes, Sir, of course,” Harry murmured, licking his lips anxiously. He tensed when he felt his arse cheeks being spread apart by his Dom, feeling the cool air wash over his hole. Something firm prodded lightly at his pucker, gently testing out the tightness.

“Colour?”

“Green, Sir,” Harry answered immediately through gritted teeth, waiting for the worst of the sting. He didn’t feel anything from the root yet, but then again, it wasn’t even in him yet.

The first bit of the ginger root finally slipped in, Harry gasping as it did so. It was an odd sensation; it felt a bit different than the other plugs he’d tried so far. The insertion was slow and felt _cold_ , making Harry tense more and more as the seconds passed.

It slipped in more and more until finally, it began to widen out, the carved base preventing the root from slipping all the way in and earning Harry a trip to the hospital.

Harry definitely _knew_ when the makeshift plug was secure inside him. Louis firmly pressed his fingers to the base of the carved root, making a gasp tumble out of Harry’s mouth before he could suppress it. He couldn’t feel much yet, and by ‘much’ he meant no stinging or burning. Instead, he felt nothing for the first few seconds until that ‘nothing’ grew to be a sight tingling. It was an odd sensation, but not unbearable.

“Don’t feel much yet, do you, darling?”

Harry hadn’t even noticed that Louis had made his way back around his restrained body so that they were facing each other once more. He didn’t answer, knowing better than to speak now. Instead, he swallowed, tense as ever, waiting for Louis’ next move.

“No, I’m sure you don’t.” Louis tutted and reached out with his hands, letting his fingers brush Harry’s nipples. And fuck, Louis fucking knew how sensitive Harry’s nipples were.

The moment Louis’ fingers skillfully and properly gripped Harry’s nipples, squeezing lightly, Harry let out a deep groan from the back of his throat that turned into whimpers when Louis gave little sharp tugs at them.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Louis purred. “I bet you’re so, _so_ sensitive right now.” He released his grip on Harry’s nipples, not twisting and tugging anymore, but instead lightly rubbing his fingers over them.

Harry let out a breathy whine, squirming when he felt a slight stinging on his skin. It was traces of the ginger still left on Louis’ hands, he realized. Thankfully, the minimal amount of stinging dissipated easily enough. The plug in his ass was a different matter.

The tingling feeling was quickly transitioning into something more, Harry suddenly realized, heart beginning to beat faster in exhilaration. Instead of a slight tingling, it was now a burning. The burn didn’t feel too bad to begin with, Harry told himself. If this was his entire punishment, he was pretty sure that he’d be able to breeze through it easily.

But no, of course not. Of course it wasn’t that easy. The burning sensation increased by the second, becoming more and more intense. Harry could feel his curls start to get a bit damp with sweat as he panted, struggling to stay still. He settled for going up on his toes whenever the burning got particularly more intense, though why or how, he didn’t know.

Harry didn’t know if it was because Louis knew him too well, or if he was just easy to read. Probably both, he told himself. Either way, Louis heartily began to speak, circling him as if he was the prey and Louis the predator.

“It burns, yeah?” His Dom sounded smug, and gosh, Harry must’ve really pissed Louis off. The stinging was quickly turning into something more, building up until Harry was squirming, trying to avoid the inevitable. His breathing roughened when he realized there was no going back now; the plug wouldn’t magically die down, after all. Would it? He squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“You know,” Louis said casually, making Harry’s eyes snap open. “I took it upon myself to do some research about this whole topic.” He lightly tapped the base of the plug sitting inside Harry, making the curly-haired sub stiffen. “Most people think that this whole idea began during the Victorian times as a form of discipline for wives. Turns out the Ancient Greeks used this as punishment for female slaves before, and I’m sure you can see why, because it bloody stings, doesn’t it?”

Harry nodded hard, mouth going dry when he felt his Dom make his way all the way around him until he stood in front of Harry yet once again, reaching out to brush his fingers down Harry’s sides. “Horse riders also used it — and some still do, though it’s _obviously_ much more safe and sanitary nowadays — and they called it ‘feaguing,’ and you know what they did? No? They would apply an irritant, like the very raw ginger root you have in your own arse right now, or onion, pepper, tobacco, or even a live eel. Not the most pleasant sensation for the horses, I assume. The whole purpose was to encourage the horse to appear as if it was younger and livelier. Now, what do you think about that?”

“It sucks,” Harry gritted out, making Louis throw his head back as he laughed.

“Stings, yeah? Burns?” Louis leaned closer to Harry until they were nearly nose-to-nose. Harry stared into his Dom’s sharp blue eyes, shivering. “Here’s another fun fact for you: it only starts to really burn when your body warms the plug up and your muscles start contracting. When that happens, the potent oils begin to get discharged, and well, I’m sure you know what happens from then on.”

Louis drew back, though he reached out with a finger to trace Harry’s lips teasingly. “And just to let you know, if I really, really wanted to be cruel, I could spank you, or flog you, and that would make you tighten up even more.” Louis pushed the finger into Harry’s mouth, and Harry instinctively began to suck. “What do you think, baby? Should I flog you?” The smirk on Louis’ face grew.

No. No, he fucking shouldn’t. “No,” Harry mumbled out as he sucked lightly.

Louis just hummed, expression neutral. “We’ll see.” He pulled his finger out and patronizingly patted Harry’s cheek. “It’ll have to depend on how well you behave throughout this punishment.”

Harry’s breathing was hard now, coming out in puffs, as the ginger root began its work.

“Well, I’m sure it’s burning much more at this point, so,” Louis glanced at the clock on the wall as if to make a point to Harry, “we can start talking now.” He didn’t break eye contact with Harry as he caressed Harry’s face, a smirk growing on his face. “Why don’t you start off this conversation, darling?”

“W-What do you want me to say?” Harry panted. He could feel sweat beading at his hairline and he bit his lip, trying to distract himself from the unnatural feeling of the burning inside of him. He squirmed as best as he could with his arms and legs restrained.

“Good question.” Louis pretended to think, then looked at him dead in the eye and said in a low tone, “Let’s begin with why you’re in this position.” Louis held the eye contact, making Harry’s mouth go dry because _fuck,_ Louis’ eye contact was terrifying.

Harry wanted to close his eyes to break it, but he knew better. If Louis was purposely making eye contact with him, then he was not allowed to break it. Harry had learned from the last time he’d decided to try to avoid Louis’ eyes. He grimaced at the fire in his arse and he opened and closed his hands as if it would help reduce the sting. Fuck, how had he landed himself in this position?

A slap to his face made his head snap to the side and he gasped, blinking hard. He looked at Louis, bewildered, and saw the Dom giving him an unimpressed look. “You’d better answer me in ten seconds or you’ll regret it,” he growled. “One. Two. Thr—”

Harry panicked.

He _knew_ that if Louis got to ten, the burning sensation he was feeling would be nothing compared to what he’d go through. “I m-misbehaved,” he spluttered, and Louis paused in his counting, giving him a look that said his answer better be good. “I wasn’t — I didn’t —” He inhaled, trying to gather his thoughts, and Louis waited. Then, Harry hung his head before saying softly, barely audibly, “I said something I wasn’t supposed to say.”

There was a silence, so quiet that Harry would’ve been able to hear a pin drop. Then, Louis spoke, voice deadly, correcting him by saying, “You said something you weren’t even supposed to be _thinking_ in the first place.”

Harry swallowed over the lump in his throat, and he nodded. He hastened to say, “Yes, Sir,” when he realized that Louis was growing impatient with him and his misbehaviour.

Louis reached out and grabbed his chin, lifting his head up and forcing him to meet Louis’ icy blue eyes. “You fucked up, darling.”

Harry felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes. “I know, Sir,” he whispered, voice quivering. “‘m sorry, I really am.”

“We’ll get to that,” Louis said shortly. “For now, I want you to think over your actions and the words that you spoke. I want you to think about how you landed yourself here, about why I’m so disappointed with you. I want you to think so _fucking_ hard that you could write a three hundred page essay on it. Am I clear, Harry?”

Harry sniffled, blinking back tears and he nodded rapidly. “Yes, Sir,” he choked out.

Louis’ gaze was unforgivingly cold. “How clear?”

“Crystal clear.”

“Good.”

Then, Louis went around him and disappeared from his sight.

Harry inhaled shakily, listening to Louis for a second. His Dom was quiet, moving things around — probably cleaning up — before things went silent. He’d probably sat down and was watching Harry, making sure that his mind wouldn’t wander off somewhere else. And Louis would know if it did.

It seemed like forever that Harry was there in the silence of the room, left alone to his thoughts, unable to move a single inch. The burning reminded him why he was there in the first place, thankfully preventing him from becoming distracted. He sniffled, absolutely miserable, as he recalled last night’s memories. No wonder Louis was mad. He definitely had the right to be.

“Have you been thinking hard?”

Louis’ question made him straighten a bit, startled. It took Harry a moment to recover from his surprise, and he quickly nodded. “Yes, Sir.” It was quiet behind him, so Harry wondered if Louis was going to leave it at that and leave him to his thoughts once more. Which, please, no. He felt guilty enough. Harry jumped when he felt something — leather? — gently touch his arse and stay there.

Louis chuckled from behind him, and the Dom spoke. “Relax, love. You’re fairly acquainted with this one. It’s one of my favourites.”

Harry stiffened, because he _knew_ what that meant. Fuck, Louis was actually _so_ pissed if he was bringing out all of this on Harry.

Sure enough, Louis circled around Harry, revealing a riding crop gripped tightly in his right hand. A smirk played on Louis’ lips, catching all of the minute details of Harry’s facial expression when his eyes landed on the instrument in Louis’ hand.

Was Louis really going to use that on him when he already had the ginger root in his arse? Unable to contain his curiosity, words slipped from Harry’s mouth before he could swallow them back. “You—” he began, then shut his mouth with an audible snap, knowing better than to speak without being addressed first when he was in this position.

Louis gently patted Harry’s thigh with the tip of the riding crop, an indication of what would happen if Harry let out another outburst like that. Then, Louis looked at Harry with a cocked eyebrow, and Harry realized what he was waiting for. Quickly, he mumbled, “Thank you, Sir,” knowing that Louis was being merciful with him. The words that came out of Louis’ mouth in response was not what Harry was expecting.

“Let’s play a game.”

Harry did a double take at that, blinking. Questions burned on the tip of his tongue, desperate to be asked, but Harry bit his lip, trying to prevent them from bursting out. When he saw Louis’ smirk widen, he knew that his Dom was doing this on purpose, making him feel more and more curious to make him anticipate what would come next. Fuck.

“A game where,” Louis spoke once more, elaborating and saving Harry from his internal torture, “I ask you something, and if I’m not satisfied with an answer, then, well, I think our friend here will be more than enough for an incentive to try to give a better answer. Don’t you agree, baby?”

Harry gulped, mouth going dry at the implications of this so-called ‘game,’ and he nodded. “Yes, Sir,” he whispered.

Louis grinned sadistically. “Excellent.” He leaned in close to Harry, and breathed into his ear, “Just remember how much more that burning will hurt if you tighten on the plug.” Then, he spun on his heel, beginning to pace, and twirled the crop in his hands menacingly. It felt like hours had passed until the first question was finally asked. “Let’s start off simple. Why am I disappointed in you?” He stopped and stared at Harry, waiting.

The question hit Harry like a truck, and a lump formed in his throat once more. His heart sank, because if Louis was starting off with a question like that, it wouldn’t end up good for him. Nevertheless, he answered, having no other choice to do anything but exactly that. Softly, he said, “Because I was bad, Sir.”

“Oh?” Louis raised an eyebrow, moving the crop from one hand to another. “Expand.”

“I—” Harry stammered, eyeing the crop distastefully. “Um, I got drunk last night.”

Louis gazed at him for a good few seconds before commenting, “Good start. We’ll get into the details later.” He stepped closer to Harry, narrowing his eyes, making Harry lick his lips nervously, and he asked in a deadly tone, “Tell me, Harry, were you supposed to get drunk last night?”

“N-no Sir,” Harry whispered, biting his lip. “I’m not supposed to without your permission, Sir, and I didn’t have your permission yesterday.”

“And you’re sorry for that?” Louis pulled his head back by tangling his fingers in his curls and yanking. When Harry didn’t answer, he repeated, voice hardening, “Are you?”

“Yes, Sir,” Harry said softly, voice cracking a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Mm.” Louis let his fingers brush Harry’s stomach before beginning to trace a pattern onto it, making the sub try squirm. “What happened after you got drunk, hm? Go on, darling, tell me.”

“I said things,” Harry whispered, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his face. The plug was working its magic and no matter how much Harry squirmed — or at least attempted to — it stubbornly wouldn’t dislodge.

What happened next was a whirl. Before Harry could even register what had happened, he heard a sharp _crack!_ and the next thing he felt was a burst of pain blooming in his thigh. “Fuck!” he bucked in his restraints, arching his back as Louis laid another one into him, on the same spot.

Gasping from both the stinging on his thigh and the fire in his arse, he looked down and saw a pink mark on his skin. Fuck, the burning had worsened, true to Louis’ word. He winced. Harry raised his eyes back up to see Louis step back, jaw clenched tightly.

Then, Louis reached out and fisted his curls in his hand, and growled, “When I ask you a question, I want clear, definite answers.”

Harry tried to nod, blinking back tears. “Yes, Sir!” he gasped.

Louis let go and gripped the crop tightly with both hands. “Now. Let me ask once more. What happened after you got drunk last night?”

Harry hung his head, more guilt crashing over him. “I … I was drinking when you came back from work, Sir, and I w-was a mess. Uh, I…” He trailed off, squirming, and looked up. Louis raised an eyebrow, and Harry hastened to continue. “I didn’t greet you properly like I should have, and I said things that you don’t approve of. Like, I said…” He trailed off, unable to say it, too overwhelmed with guilt. The guiltier he felt, the more the plug burned, and he let out a small sob.

Harry flinched when he saw the riding crop appear in his peripheral vision, but instead of striking him once more, it rested gently on his inner thigh. He looked up, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Go on,” Louis said, understanding sketched on his face. “Go on, darling, I know you can say it, hm?” He lifted the crop up and gently caressed Harry’s cheek with it. Their eyes met, blue and green, silently communicating with each other.

Then, Harry straightened, and forced himself to whisper, “I said that I wasn’t worth your love and that you d-deserve better, Sir.”

Knowing that it was an indication that Harry could keep going, Louis gave a curt nod and said sternly, “That’s right. Tell me why that upsets me so much.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, but they snapped open when Louis growled, “Eyes. Open.”

Shivering, Harry breathed, “It upsets you because you don’t agree, Sir.”

“Repeat it louder.”

Harry sniffled pitifully and said once more, “It’s upsetting because you don’t agree. Sir.”

Louis looked at him expressionlessly, almost too much of an analyzing look, making Harry squirm. “It upsets me because it’s not the truth, Harry.”

Harry dropped his eyes and said softly, “Yes, Sir.” He could feel his cheeks flush, face growing warm, and he wished he could twist to look at the clock to see just how long the root had been inside his arse.

“You deserve all of my love,” Louis repeated, eyes hardening as he spoke. He lifted the crop, and Harry flinched, but could do nothing to avoid the slap that was laid down right on his arse. “Every. Single. Bit. Of. It.” Louis’ words were punctuated with a sharp snap of the crop onto his arse.

Harry bucked up, trying to avoid the hits, but failed miserably. He choked out a sob, blathering, “‘m sorry, Sir! ‘m sorry!” His arse was burning on the outside and inside, due to the crop and the plug. He felt tears well up in his eyes and he turned his head, trying to wipe them away on his shoulder.

“Oh, I know you are,” Louis muttered with a shake of his head. “I would be too if I were you.” He let the crop draw a trail on Harry’s body, starting from his thigh, all the way up to his adam’s apple, until it reached his chin. Then, he urged Harry’s head up with the crop, and Harry obeyed, eager to avoid any slaps that would cause the burning of the plug to increase. “Why did you say that last night, hm?”

“I was drunk,” Harry said softly.

“That’s not the only reason, and I goddamn know it,” Louis retorted, narrowing his eyes, “So if you know what’s good for you, darling, you’re going to tell me now.”

Harry burst into tears, and he sobbed out, “B-because I f-feel like ‘m not good enough for y-you, Sir!” He cried shamelessly, tears dripping to the floor beneath him.

Louis let the crop fall with a clatter, and he reached forward, wrapping his arms around Harry. Harry’s arms jerked in the restraints, trying to hug Louis back before realizing that he couldn’t. Then, he gave and laid his head on Louis’ shoulders, crying.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” Louis whispered, rubbing his back comfortingly. “You’re perfect, love, shhh.”

“No,” Harry cried, “‘m not. I-I could be better, I—”

“You’re perfect,” Louis repeated, more firmly, “And don’t you ever try to say otherwise.” Then, knowing that Harry had learned his lesson, he expertly pulled the ginger plug out, tutting and making comforting noises when Harry whimpered and winced at the pain. Then, Louis reached up, quickly and skillfully undoing the restraints and then releasing Harry from the spreader bar.

Harry immediately fell to his knees, and Louis bent down to wrap him in a hug, knowing that Harry needed it.

“It’s alright to feel insecure, baby,” Louis said softly, pressing his lips to Harry’s shoulder gently. “It’s completely alright. Vulnerability is a human trait, and I don’t think any differently of you for feeling that way. But I need you to know that whatever bad, mean thoughts are in your head, you can tell them to piss off. Because they’re wrong, and they always will be.”

Harry laughed wetly, and Louis smiled. “Come on, baby, let’s move to the bed, hm? I want to be able to cuddle you properly.”

Louis guided Harry to the bed, getting him in bed before reaching out towards the nightstand for the glass of water he’d prepared. He raised the glass to Harry’s lips, making an approving noise when Harry obediently drank, wiping away tears.

“You’re such a good boy for me,” Louis murmured. “So good, so perfect. Come here, baby.” He spooned Harry from behind, rubbing the spot on his thigh where he’d hit it with the crop. “We’re just going to stay like this for a while, alright, darling? I want you to know exactly how much I love you.”

Harry shuffled around, grimacing, until he was facing Louis. Then, he buried his face in Louis’ shoulder and tearfully whimpered, “‘m sorry for making you punish me.”

Louis pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Anything for you, darling. You’re worth it all.”

**Author's Note:**

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